


Well, Things Could Be Worse

by hazard0us



Series: Ricca [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF!Stiles, Caring Derek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-01-27 03:16:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1712948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazard0us/pseuds/hazard0us
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Ugh,” Stiles whined, reaching across his bed and picking up his cellphone. “Hello,” he answered groggily. </p><p>	“Stiles? Stiles!” a voice said. </p><p>	“Yeah, that’s my name, don’t wear it out,” he mumbled still half asleep. </p><p>	“Real funny, Stiles, but right now’s not the time,” the voice said again sounding really urgent. Stiles glanced at his clock and read three in the morning. What the hell guys?</p><p>	“What is it?” he yawned. </p><p>	“Stiles! Wake up we need you! I sent you our location, it’s- it’s not safe. Something’s hap-,” the voice was interrupted by a blood-curdling scream in the background that woke Stiles up. Then a loud male voice, who he was sure was Scott’s, shouting Derek! </p><p>Stiles jumped out of bed and thanked God for still being dressed. He stopped for a second and considered jumping through the window. After a second he thought damn it all, opened it, and hopped out. Falling gracefully on his feet, he checked his texts and began running.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Well, Things Could Be Worse

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, okay, I know. You guys hate me. I haven't update in a really really long time, and I'm so sorry. So, I decided tor revisit some old works, and I got inspired for this one. Hopefully, you guys enjoy it, I promise not to tease and to continue it. It wasn't beta'd so all mistakes are my own.

Stiles fell on his bed and sighed. He rubbed his hands down his face and tried to explain to himself whatever the fuck just happened back at the school. He knew he was strong, and he knew he had a temper, if pushed enough, but my God. He lifted up two alphas- two freaking alphas- and threatened them. What the fuck?

Honestly, man. Is he trying to had a toe tag by the end of this week? 

Stiles released another sigh as his phone began to ring. He reached over and picked it up.

“Hello?” he answered. 

“Stiles, what the hell did you do? Aiden and Ethan came running into the school steaming. They were ranting on how you just promised to kill them,” Derek’s voice was eerily calm on the other end. 

“Well, in my defense, they had threatened to hurt Lydia, so,” Stiles replied. 

“I don’t care. You can say whatever you want, Stiles, that’s fine. It’s the fact that you had to lift them both up and slam against a freaking car,” Derek said, his voice losing its cool at the end. 

“I’m sorry, okay? I don’t know what happened, or how I even managed to do that. They taunted me, and I reacted poorly,” he answered, and okay, maybe “reacted poorly” was a bit of an-

“Understatement, Stiles,” Derek finished his thoughts for him. 

“Whatever, I mean it’s not like anyone’s going to believe them. They’re always pulling jokes, and spreading bullshit,” Stiles rushed, confused on how Derek knew what he was thinking. 

“That may be true, but still, you have gotten their attention. So for the love of God, Stiles, don’t do it again. Stay under the radar. Try to keep it under control.”

“And please, explain to me how the fuck I’m supposed to that? You don’t think it’s been exactly that what I’ve been trying to do? But with so little information, and no freaking self-control it’s a little hard,” he snapped, considering how ticked off Derek would be if he hung up right then and there. He decided against it when he heard a soft I’m sorry, on the other end. 

“How hard is it?” Derek asked, his voice calm again and gentle. 

“You know how hard it was for Scott and the others to control themseleves on a full moon? Or how hard it was for you?” 

“Yes.”

“Okay, I obviously didn’t experience it, but I imagine it’s something like that only… I don’t know… maybe a bit more worse?” it came out of his mouth as a question, he didn’t want to push his luck. 

“Yeah, I thought it would be,” Derek sighed, surprising him. “Peter and I are trying our best to dig up what we can, but just like you we’ve been unsuccessful. Hang on tight, though, we’ll figure it out.” Stiles nodded before he remembered that he was on the phone.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, Derek,” he said, “and thanks,” he added quickly before hanging up. 

Stiles laid back down on his bed and stretched his arms. Enough of this Ricca crap, he was going to think about things that actually mattered right now. He was the least important right now. 

The alphas had returned their injured betas, save for Lydia who had somehow managed to wake up from her sleep and walk to the body. She had explained to them that she didn’t remember waking up or how she got there, and so they left it alone for a while, but now as Stiles had time to ponder at it, he was going to. 

When Peter had first bitten Lydia, her body had shown signs of rejecting the bite, but then as days passed, her wounds began to heal at an incredible speed, and on a full moon her eyes turned gold. She didn’t go full on transformation, but she had somehow acquired some characteristics of a werewolf. It seemed strange to them, but Deaton has assured them that sometimes things like this happen because every person’s body handle the bite differently. Of course, it occurred rarely, but it’s Lydia, so Stiles had accepted it. 

Now, though, something seemed off. Not to mention that there was something new in town. Something that had taken everyone by surprise. Something that was not terrified of an alpha pack but actually terrified them. Then there were the bodies to think about. There hasn’t been any new ones found, but normally, or from what Stiles knew, one virgin sacrifice was enough. 

“What the?” Stiles rushed as pain emanated from his back. He quickly sat up and ripped his shirt off. He groaned from the pain and quickly ran to the bathroom. In the mirror Stiles turned around and what was reflected back at him, left him feeling weak in the knees. 

His birthmark was red and it was pulsing. The pain was so excruciating that Stiles had to place his hands on the wall to keep from falling over. His breath came out quicker and he began seeing black spots in his vision. 

“Stiles? Are you okay, son?” his dad’s voice came from behind the door. 

“Yeah, fine, just a headache,” he replied shakily, willing himself not to topple over. 

“Are you sure?” his dad inquired, the worry clear in his voice. 

“Yeah, yeah, dad I’m f-fine. Go on to work, don’t want to b-be late for your sh-shift,” he answered, blinking rapidly. He focused long enough to hear the retreating footsteps of his father and then a slam of a door, then he released his hold from the wall and fell to his knees. 

He rubbed his hands back and forth across his forehead in a desperate attempt to make the pain go away, but after a couple tries, it proved useless, and to be honest, Stiles was getting tired. And he was thirsty and hot. He wanted water. The thought of water filled his head, and he was so caught up in the visions and pain he didn’t hear it. 

The faucet turned, and a steady stream flowed from it. 

Stiles was too busy concentrating on the idea of having water, he didn’t realize what was happening. 

He turned then, on instinct, and pressed his back against the wall. Opening his mouth he waited as the water made a path towards him then into his mouth and down his throat. He wasn’t losing his shit over the fact that the water had magically made its way to him. He just drank and drank, when he was satisfied, the faucet shut off and the remaining water splashed lightly on his face. 

The thirst was gone, and surprisingly so was his headache, and the once excruciating pain on his back was gone. He stood up gracefully without any dizziness, and walked over to the sink. He turned and caught sight of his back, the mark was no longer pulsing, but it was still faintly red. 

His hand gingerly brushed it and he was startled to find that it was warm. He shrugged and headed back to his room. He took the remainder of his clothes off and got ready for bed. It was dark out already, and when he had rushed to the bathroom it was still daylight out. He felt as if he had only been in the bathroom for a couple minutes, but it seemed it had taken him longer than that. 

Finally, he was snuggled up under the covers, and he was just beginning to fall asleep when he quickly jolted up into a seating position.  
“Oh my God.” 

*********************

Stiles jogged up the stairs of Beacon Hills High School, a lot quicker than he normally did, but he ignored it. It’s been two days since the water incident, and Stiles has begun noticing slight changes in his physical abilities. 

He’s getting stronger, which was not really a surprised considering he slammed two alpha dorks against a car, he sight is better like way better, and his reflexes are really fantastic. 

Inhumane, you mean, his mind whispered the thought. He shook his head roughly and pressed his lips into a tight line. 

Luckily, no weird water tricks have happened… yet. Stiles was determined to not let them happen. He was a freak as it is, he didn’t need another reason to be deemed as one. 

“Stiles! Hey, man! Where have you been?” Scott said, slinging an arm over his best friend’s shoulder. 

“Oh, hey,” Stiles startled looking at Scott, “Umm, I’ve been busy. You know researching and then I have to do that chem essay for Harris or he’ll have my freaking head.” 

Scott nodded in understanding and ran a hand through his mop of hair. Stiles felt bad for lying to his best friend, whom seemed to trust him so easily. He would never expect Stiles to lie to him, or keep anything from him. 

“Oh, just the guys I was looking for,” Allison smiled stepping in their paths. “Stiles, we haven’t practiced in a long time, and the betas haven’t trained,” she added, her eyes narrowing at Scott, “I think we should stop by Derek’s after school and fix that.” 

“Yeah, good idea!” Scott agreed, grinning at his girlfriend then at Stiles. 

“Um, I-I can’t sorry,” Stiles ushered, stepping out of Scott’s arm and letting it fall to his side. 

“What? Why not?” Scott question, giving Stiles his puppy dog look. Stiles had to turn away from it in order to not throw himself on the floor and tell Scott everything. 

“I’m busy, remember?” he snorted, ignoring Allison’s gaze as well. “Sorry, guys. Have to run now!” he added, turning swiftly and running back down the stairs. When he reached the doors, he broke off into a sprint and made a beeline for his car. 

“Whoa, bro,” a voice said as Stiles collided with another body. 

“Oommff,” Stiles grunted as he regained his balance. He glanced up to find a familiar face in front of him. When did he get there? Stiles hadn’t seem him when he was running across the lot. He had just turned for a second and then turned back and he was there. 

“You okay?” the voice asked.

“Uh- yeah. Fine, ‘bout you?” 

“I’m good, but like damn. You almost ran me over,” the stranger laughed, “Watch it next time, Stilinski.” 

Stiles was confused at first as to how this stranger knew his name. Then it occurred to him. This guy was in two of his classes, his name was like Jeff or Jamie, something with a ‘J’. 

“Right, sorry about that. In a hurry, so I’ll be seeing you,” he rushed, walking around the guy. 

“Okay? Um bye?” the guy called out, but Stiles didn’t hear him as he jogged lightly the rest of the way to his Jeep. 

As soon as he slid in the driver’s seat, pain began radiating from his back again. It wasn’t as bad as it was the first time, but it still hurt like hell. Stiles sucked in his breath and willed himself to start his car and drive home. He managed to do just that, but as soon as he stepped through the front door he fell to his knees. 

He sucked in a gulp of air and released it in a haggard breath. His head swam and once again black spots began to cloud his vision.

“Noo,” he groaned, placing his hands on the floor in front of him. The mark burned like fire on his back, and he tore off his shirt, thinking that maybe the hit of air would help it. It did by a bit. Then all Stiles was thinking was how he really needed to get back outside, and feel the wind hug his body. He was hot. So hot. He began dragging himself towards the kitchen where the door to the backyard was. 

It was a struggle because his body ached, but he kept trying. 

Come on, come on. He kept thinking, the phrase becoming a mantra. He was a couple feet away now, but to him it felt like miles. His head was pounding so hard now, and his body just couldn’t anymore. 

He sprawled out on the tile, and began blinking rapidly- images of dancing leaves and gusts of winds leading sails out on the ocean filling his mind. 

Almost immediately he heard a noise. His brain vaguely registered the sound of… windows? Shaking? Was there an earthquake happening? The sound of the door snapping caused Stiles to forcefully raise his head. 

Sure enough, the door was pounding as if someone was knocking on it, and the windows rattled. Stiles willed himself to move towards the door until finally he reached it. Stretching his hand out to open the knob, the door suddenly opened, and Stiles managed to roll out of the way before it smacked him. 

Wind poured in through the room like the waves of a hurricane. Stiles somehow managed to sit up against the island in the middle of the kitchen, and he watched in amazement as papers flew around and around the room. He then tore his gaze from the ceiling where the papers were circling and glanced outside. 

His jaw fell open as he took in the view. The tops of the trees weren’t moving. The grass wasn’t bending, and the flowers weren’t dancing. Yet, here, inside the house, the papers were performing a ritual above him. He noted then that his head stopped pounding, and the burn on his back had dulled into a slight sting. 

“I’m so fucked,” he whispered, hugging his knees to his chest.Tears stung his eyes, but he’d be damned if he let them fall. The papers stopped sailing around, and lazily flew down to the ground. 

He sat there for a couple more seconds, minutes, hours? Who knew? When he had finally regained his equilibrium he stood up and began cleaning the room. When he was finished he walked upstairs and threw himself on top of his bed. In less than a nanosecond, he was dozing off. 

********

“Ugh,” Stiles whined, reaching across his bed and picking up his cellphone. “Hello,” he answered groggily. 

“Stiles? Stiles!” a voice said. 

“Yeah, that’s my name, don’t wear it out,” he mumbled still half asleep. 

“Real funny, Stiles, but right now’s not the time,” the voice said again sounding really urgent. Stiles glanced at his clock and read three in the morning. What the hell guys?

“What is it?” he yawned. 

“Stiles! Wake up we need you! I sent you our location, it’s- it’s not safe. Something’s hap-,” the voice was interrupted by a blood-curdling scream in the background that woke Stiles up. Then a loud male voice, who he was sure was Scott’s, shouting Derek! 

Stiles jumped out of bed and thanked God for still being dressed. He stopped for a second and considered jumping through the window. After a second he thought damn it all, opened it, and hopped out. Falling gracefully on his feet, he checked his texts and began running. 

Twenty minutes later, he was deep somewhere in the forest. His legs running faster than ever- avoiding twigs, holes, and other objects. He wasn’t breathing hard at all, but right now that didn’t matter. He’d deal with his freaky abilities later, right now his friends needed him, and he was going to make sure they were-. 

He came to a sudden stop. His eyes scanned the bare field in front of him. Every muscle in his body tensed, and the mark on his back pulsed, but not with pain. It was something else. It felt cool and refreshing. It made him alert. He took a cautious step forward and waited. After several minutes he spoke. 

“I know you’re out there. Show yourself. Now,” he said, loudly but calmly. He waited a couple seconds then spoke again, “Derek?” 

A laugh echoed through his ears and Stiles’ lips pressed into a hard line. He had figured Derek wouldn’t be here. Something in his gut was telling him so, it was a strange sensation. A feeling that he noted back in his room, but it was quiet compared to the raging voice that had to make sure his friends were okay. 

Now, he realized, that he should have listened to it. 

His friends weren’t here. They were home and safe. The realization made him relax a bit. That’s all that mattered. Whatever happened to him- happened. He didn’t care, so long as his pack was safe. 

“Hello, Stiles,” a deep voice greeted, interrupting his thoughts. 

Stiles clenched his fists and replied cooly, “Mind showing me your face? Or your name? Looks like you have me at a disadvantage.” 

The voice laughed again but replied, “Well, I’m not Derek.” 

“No shit,” Stiles laughed bitterly, the mark pumping on his back with the beat of his heart. 

“Gotta smart mouth on you too, huh? Intelligent, clever, strong, and powerful, full package it seems,” the voice said. 

Stiles walked out into the field raising his hands in the air, a smirk spreading across his face, “Don’t forget looks,” he added. The back of his mind was questioning his actions, but something else seemed to have taken control over him. “Why don’t you come out and lemme see if you can compete,” he taunted. 

The voice chuckled, but then out of the corner of his eye, Stiles saw a figure step into the field. 

Stiles eyes widened and the inside of his mouth went dry. Stiles eyes raked over the man and took in every detail. He was tall, lean, and had dark curls atop of his head. He reminded him of Scott for a moment, but his best friend’s hair was messy and framed his face making him appear adorable and friendly. This guy’s hair was combed neatly, none of it falling on his face, so one could see the chiseled outlines of it. While the guy was startling attractive, there was one thing, okay two, that made Stiles’ heart stop. Not in the good way either. 

Staring at him with an enormous amount of intensity, the man’s eyes glowed a bright scarlet. Stiles has never seen anything like it, not even the eyes of his werewolves glowed like that. 

“Shall we try again? Hello, Stiles, I’m-,” he began. 

“Jeremy,” Stiles finished, finally remembering the name of the guy who he had almost ran over in the parking lot. 

Jeremy smiled at him, and Stiles took a tentative step back, his fists balled tightly- he could feel his nails cutting into his skin. 

“What’s the matter, Stiles?” Jeremy questioned innocently, tilting his head and squinting at him. It almost would have worked. If it weren’t for his eyes, and the huge ball of fire surrounding him. “Don’t you wanna play?” he pressed, a malicious smirk spreading across his face. 

Stiles barely had any time to react before a row of flames shot out from Jeremy’s hand, and they were heading directly towards him.


	2. I Set Fire to the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A ticking noise began to fill his ears as he finally reached Stiles and crouched down next to him, “Honestly, Stiles. I was hoping for more of a fight.” Jeremy sounded disappointed, but Stiles didn’t know why, and he was too dizzy and out of breath to care. “Well, at least killing you won’t be a problem.” Stiles shut his eyes tightly as he let the words sink in. He was going to die. Right here. Right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so I know I'm writing this fic in a very slow-like manner, but I'm honestly so busy and just can't find time. Also, the inspiration sometimes doesn't hit right away, and I really need for you guys to understand that. I am terribly sorry, but I'm doing the best I can. It wasn't beta'd, but then again none of my works ever are, so mistakes all mine. Reviews greatly appreciated, and I hope you enjoy.

“Fuck,” Stiles muttered as a ball of freaking fire headed towards him. He dove to his right, somersaulting and turning on his heel to face Jeremy. The creep just grinned at him as he shot out more fireballs from his hands. Stiles felt like a gymnast as he avoided each and every one of them.

“You’re going to keep dancing, Stiles? If so, I must have picked the wrong guy,” Jeremy chuckled as Stiles crouched down in front of him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I can tell you that you have the wrong guy. I’m just Stiles,” he shouted standing up from his crouch. Jeremy responded by laughing and taking a couple strides towards him.

“Honestly, Stiles, playing dumb does not suit you. How about you stop avoiding them-”

“And just let one of your balls hit me in the face?”

“It’s not like you would mind if balls hit you in the face,” Jeremy smirked circling him.

“Ha, you got jokes,” Stiles said, his eyes trained on Jeremy. “Oh, come on Stiles,” Jeremy chuckled again. Honestly, it was giving Stiles the creeps. “It’s not like I could do anything else,” Stiles voiced, eerily calm.

Jeremy raised an eyebrow and stopped, “Well, let’s find out.”

Stiles watched in fear and amazement, but mainly fear, as Jeremy dropped his hands to his side and then were engulfed in flames. Stiles felt his mouth go dry and the guy’s lips spread into a small smirk- Stiles felt his birthmark pulsing on his back in warning. Something was about to happen, and Stiles wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to avoid it.

Slowly, Jeremy raised his flamed hands until they were at his mid-stomach and then quickly lowered them again. Sparks ignited from his gesture and Stiles’ vision began to get cloudy- he turned his head and swallowed a lump down his dry throat as flames began to lick the grounds around him. When he had a done a 180- the flames connected. The result was a ring of fire, and Stiles was directly in the center of it.

Stiles spun on his heel and faced Jeremy again, “No where to run now, Stiles. Show me what you got,” Jeremy demanded. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, man,” Stiles cried panicked, but Jeremy didn’t listen or he didn’t care. Soon, more flames were being thrown at him. Stiles dove and jumped out of their way, but with the enclosed space it was hard. He was out breath in a short time, and the smoke from the flames didn’t help.

“Jeremy, please,” Stiles begged as he threw himself on the grass, trying to control his haggard breathing. Black spots danced in his vision, but Stiles could still make out the silhouette of the guy as he walked closer and closer to him. A ticking noise began to fill his ears as he finally reached Stiles and crouched down next to him, “Honestly, Stiles. I was hoping for more of a fight.” Jeremy sounded disappointed, but Stiles didn’t know why, and he was too dizzy and out of breath to care. “Well, at least killing you won’t be a problem.” Stiles shut his eyes tightly as he let the words sink in. He was going to die. Right here. Right now. He braced himself for the impact, but before it could come, lightning flashed right near Jeremy.

“Oh, what the hell,” Jeremy muttered as he stood up casually, as if he almost didn’t get struck. “Didn’t think you’d find me,” he shouted to the empty field. Stiles struggled to regain his equilibrium as Jeremy continued walking in the opposite direction, his back towards Stiles. “Okay, correction, didn’t think you’d find me so soon, but guess the power here is great, too bad it’s useless.”

Stiles paused for a second to try and understand what the hell Jeremy was talking about. What power? How is any power useless? His thoughts were interrupted by a scorching pain on his lower back, “You stay put, Stiles,” Jeremy shook his finger at him, “It’s not like you have anywhere to go,” he added gesturing to the flames. Stiles whimpered at the pain, but it only lasted a few seconds, and when Stiles glanced at his back- the only sign that Jeremy had torched him was the whole in in his shirt.

“What the?” Stiles shook his head in bewilderment. Why wasn’t there a patch of bubbling skin on his back? “Hmm, interesting. You heal a lot faster than I would have imagined,” Jeremy noted, rubbing his chin in thought. “Then again, I only shot you a steamer,” he grinned wickedly, and before Stiles could react, Jeremy raised his hand and a stream of fire erupted from his hand.

Stiles let out a curdling scream as the flames made contact with his back, “Stop, please,” he shouted. Jeremy didn’t even flinch and he didn’t stop. His back was throbbing and Stiles resigned himself to the pain, laying his face down on the ground, tears streaming down his face. He barely acknowledged the loud roaring of thunder as the sky began to cloud. He was beginning to black out. In his state, he didn’t see the lightning bolt that struck Jeremy on the head.

The last thing he remembered was a faint trail of wet kisses on his face as he lost conscious.

* * *

 

“Stiles! Stiles! Come on. Wake up! Stiles,” Stiles felt slight pain on his face as he opened his eyes. Allison was in front of him, both of her hands cupping his face. “Did you just slap me?” he slurred trying to take in his surroundings. The girl smiled at him and sat back, “He’s awake!” she called.

Stiles sat up quickly and rubbed his eyes, “Whoa, man, calm down. You might get dizzy,” Scott’s voice came from his left. He turned his head to find his best friend running towards him. Stiles still hadn’t regained his ability to think, but he believed Scott should be right. He should be feeling dizziness or pain or something, but he didn’t.

In a sudden jolt, he jumped up, “Stiles?” Lydia’s voice was small and gentle but he could hear a hint of worry in it. Stiles glanced up at her and blurted, “My back! My back!” The other werewolves had reached them by now and were just staring at him as if he had grown another head. In frustration he shouted, “Check my back! Does it look okay to you?”

They jumped in surprise and shared looks, “Stiles, your back is fine,” Derek said from behind him. Stiles spun quickly and almost collided with him, “Whoa, calm down. Everything’s okay,” Derek raised his hands to balance him. Stiles felt the alpha’s warm, strong hands on his shoulders and shuddered at the skin on skin contact. He then quickly glanced down and noticed his stomach then his eyes drifted to the ground. His shirt was in a pile on the field, burnt and shredded.

“Stiles,” Lydia tried again, “What happened?”

Stiles slowly and reluctantly stepped out of Derek’s touch. His eyes searched the field for flames and for Jeremy. He turned a complete circle, but the only sign of the fire was the traced black outline of the ring Jeremy had trapped him in. Stiles furrowed his brow as he noticed a patch of yellow grass inside the circle. He walked to it and crouched down, his hand brushed against the grass and Stiles let himself fall back on his ass. He sat there motionless- lost in thought. No one said a word, but they didn’t take their eyes off him.

Finally, Stiles raised his head and met the hazel eyes of Derek Hale, “I know what’s here. I don’t know why, but I know what, and I know you do too” Derek nodded his head once, his eyes never leaving Stiles. “I think they deserve to know too,” he added quietly.

“Boy,” Peter let out, surprising Stiles, he hadn’t seen him, as per usual, “You know what might happen if we do,” the man finished, concern etched on his face. “What are you guys talking about?” Scott asked, glancing between them. Stiles noticed Allison looking down, her hands gripping something tightly. “They have the right to know,” Stiles begged, willing Allison to look up. She didn’t.

“Stiles,” Peter began, “No, he’s right,” Derek interrupted, glancing at Allison as well. “What do you think, Allison?” Derek gingerly asked. Seconds passed before Allison glanced up. Her brown eyes were sad and her usual Disney princess smile was replaced by a grim line. She nodded her head and slowly walked to where Stiles was sitting.

“Were you attacked?” she questioned, looking down at him. He stood up and placed his hands on her thin shoulders, “Yes.” She bit her trembling lip and to Stiles’ surprised, wrapped her arms around him, “Then yes, yes they deserve to know,” she let go of him just as quickly as she had grabbed him and stepped back. Without turning to face their friends, she stared intently into Stiles’ eyes. “But just know, all of you. Derek, Peter, and I are with him. And we are not letting any of you hurt him. You’re either with us or against us.”

“What is going on, Allison?” Scott’s signature kicked-puppy face made Stiles’ stomach knot. Without answering Peter and Derek strided to his side.

Stiles mentally prepared for himself and he felt his birthmark pulsing, giving him the strength to release the words that were carved into his skin, and the power mingled in his blood, “Remember when we went to Deaton’s office the first time we met the alphas?” he didn’t wait for a response because the next words rushed out of his mouth in a trance, “And we were talking about that rare and dangerous species? Well,” Stiles felt Allison grip his hand as Lydia, Boyd, and Jackson’s faces fell- they knew what was coming next.

“So?” Isaac shrugged his shoulders.

“So,” Stiles licked his lips, “It’s me. I’m a Ricca.” The silence in the field was deafening, not a single bird chirped and not a single leaf danced.

“And last night, I discovered that I’m not the only one.”


End file.
